Runelords 17.3 - Royalty
“So, was the botanical garden everything you had hoped?” Virgil asked. He lay out across Foxglove’s couch, Shadliss on top of him. She gave a vague ‘mhm’ in response, but her gaze and body language suggested her mind was elsewhere. Leaning in, Virgil traced his nose through her hair along her ear, “What’s on your mind?” She made another humming sound, thinking, before eventually replying, “It’s just...you know what I look like, but I don’t really know what you look like.” A grin crept onto his face, “You know what I look like.” “I guess...I know what half of you looks like?” she said hesitantly. “If you want to count that.” He shrugged, “Like I said, this is a form I can take, it’s not a spell, and I can’t change it in any way. Seems like that should count as what I look like as much as anything else.” “It’s still magic though," she countered. "And either way, it’s at best only half." “Fair,” he conceded. “I don’t look that different, anyway. Do you want me to change? It doesn’t take any effort.” Shadliss frowned nervously. “I...I don’t know,” she said. “I mean...I want to know, but at the same time I don’t really.” He grinned sarcastically, “You’ve already seen me, remember?” Her frown deepened with frustration, “I was already scared! You just sprung it on me and it was only for a few seconds! Excuse me for not looking closely!” “Ok, ok! You’re right, I’m sorry!” he said in mock defense. “If you want to see again, I can change.” She huffed and muttered, “I don’t know.” Shadliss crossed her arms and lay sulkily on his chest, staring pointedly away. Virgil’s slight smile still lingered on his face as he drew his arms around her more tightly, holding her and caressing her gently, breathing in the smell of her hair. As time passed slowly, Virgil undid the magic that made him appear human, revealing his demonic body. True to his word though, he didn’t look altogether that different, and it took her a few more minutes before she noticed anything had changed. In response to his embrace, she had reached her hand back and begun drawing her fingers lightly along his cheek and ear. By chance, her fingertip brushed the feathers that grew where his hair should have been. Her eyes widened slightly as she reached back and probed more forcefully, feeling the obvious difference. “Please don’t grab,” he commented softly, and she recoiled, flipping around to stare at him. He smiled placidly, holding his hands out in an open gesture. Taking a few slow breaths, Shadliss stared at him, trying to keep herself calm. He tilted his head forwards when she reached out tentatively, so she could run her fingers through his feathers. Gaining confidence, she ruffled them about with a wary grin, a slight giggle escaping her that suggested that she couldn’t decide whether this was whimsical or terrifying. Virgil chuckled, indulging her, “Gently, please.” She pulled back, and he ran his own hands through them, the feathers puffing up as he set them in place to once again appear for all intents like greased-back, deep green hair. Shadliss sat up slightly, looking him over. “That’s...that’s it then. You’re...feathery.” “Basically,” he smiled. “...Are...you sure you’re a devil?” she asked slowly. “You don’t...look much like a devil.” “I most assuredly am,” he said with a curt nod. “I’d have a much harder time existing in Hell if I wasn’t. Though, trust me, the fact that I don’t look much like one has been told to me. By many people. Rarely politely.” She acknowledged him with a hum, still entranced by his appearance. Her eyes fell on an incongruous sight, and she leaned in to investigate. Shadliss watched with a muted fascination as he sat forwards and unfurled his wings from behind him. Dragging her fingers lightly over the enormous green feathers, she asked vaguely, “...So...that’s what’s different? Feathers, and wings?” “I have a tail too, but we’re sitting on it,” he replied. She started and made to move back, but Virgil stopped her. “It’s fine; just more feathers, see?” he gestured, and she could make out more green feathers under them. His two peacock-like tendrils coiled up and caressed over her lightly, brushing her arms and face. She giggled from the touch, shooing them away. “Stop it!” she commanded in jest, still unsure of her thoughts on the matter, and he smiled, wrapping his tail feathers around her in a loose embrace as he pulled her into a hug once more. She leaned into his embrace for a few quiet minutes before asking, “So...that’s it then? A whole lot of feathers?” “That’s about it,” he affirmed, stroking her hair. “See? I’m hardly scary.” “Yeah…” she said, trailing off. With a coy grin, she reached down towards his pants, feeling him through the fabric. “No surprises under there?” He returned the lewd smile, “Nothing you haven’t experienced first-hand.” He traced his nose and lips over her ear, adding, “Be glad. Most birds don’t have the most satisfying packages.” As she undid the clasp of his pants, she added, “I’d better check.” ---------- Shadliss lay once more on top of Virgil, her bare skin pressed to his, his wing folded over her, keeping her warm. As she lay dozing, she muttered, “So...were you lying then? About your family and stuff?” “Not at all,” Virgil replied quietly, trying to not disturb her. “Everything I’ve said has been true. I just left out the part where my father is an archdevil.” “What?” “An archdevil,” he explained. “It’s basically a king of Hell. Hell’s infinite, but it’s made into provinces, and each one is ruled and controlled by an archdevil. Heaven is like that too, with archangels. My father got trapped in a human form by another devil, who thought he was being funny. He got stuck on Materia for a while, but by the time he got free, I’d been born, like I told you, and he was in love with his partner, who he didn’t want to leave. So he stayed on Materia a while longer, until Lucca was old and about to die. Then we all went to Hell with him.” She frowned, obviously not understanding; after a pointed pause, he continued to explain, “He can do that. He’s an archdevil; he’s got a lot of power. Lucca was going to die of old age, so he turned him into a devil, so they could stay together. I went too, so here we are.” She considered that for a while, before asking, “So...he’s a king.” “Yeah. Maybe god-king would make more sense. He doesn’t just rule, he shapes the world. He controls the weather, the terrain, everything. He’s...a lot more powerful than I am.” “But if he’s a king, then you’re a prince?” “Heh,” he grinned, “Yes, I suppose.” “And you’ll take over someday,” she said, half as a question, half as a statement. This made Virgil choke, and he stumbled over his reply, “Well...I...in most cases...I mean, he’s immortal, we all are, so he’s not going to die, but, yes, I am his heir, so that's my place…” Shadliss himmed at that. “You said you had siblings?” “Yes!” Virgil lept upon the slight change of topic, “I have an older sister. I had two younger sisters, but they aren’t devils. They’re...gone, now. In one way or another.” “No brothers though,” she stated. “No, just me.” At this last assertion, she fell silent, as Virgil continued to run his hand through her hair. Her thoughts whizzed by in a blur, each one only staying long enough to be acknowledged before being replaced by a new concern. This situation had gotten complicated, very quickly. At first, Virgil was just a traveller: a good-looking passer-by with a reputation. A great quick lay for fun and the sake of gossip, being able to say she had slept with one of the heroes of the Swallowtail Festival. But then he had proven himself not only good-looking and good in bed, but also interesting and interested: he was a bit strange sometimes, but he was charismatic and treated her well, and was loaded. Oh, was he loaded. Anything she asked, she got, and what she got kept getting better: gems and jewellry and wealth. It was more than just money though: when her sister was suddenly gone and everything was dark, he was there, and he was kind. He brought magic, and had brought Romeo. He took her to Medinipur, the place she had always dreamed of, and showed her everything she had wanted to see. Perhaps he was the catch she had been day-dreaming of since she was little: the mysterious, wealthy man who would take her away from her everyday life and show her a world of splendor and decadence. But all this had taken a dangerous and unprecedented turn. A devil? He didn’t look or sound or act like a devil should, did he? Devils weren’t even things that existed, really. Not in a real world, a sane world, the world she lived in. Was that what he really was? Did he actually mean her secret harm, plotting and planning for a long game to claim her soul or something, like devils were supposed to do? How much of what he said was a lie? With him it was always impossible to tell; it had been like that since the moment he had sauntered into town. Now, before she had even had a chance to come to terms with his inhumanness, this had been thrown at her. Royalty. Crown prince of Hell-royalty, assuming he wasn’t lying. This wasn’t something done in half-measures. You don’t ‘casually date’ crown prince royalty. You don’t ‘just sleep with’ crown prince royalty. You court princes openly, you liaise with them in secret, or you have nothing to do with them; there’s no real middle ground. There’s a level of fame, of expectation from the high society and of curious intrusion from everyone else, that is indelibly tied to princes and those people deemed lucky enough to date them. You can’t avoid it, when you consort with someone with that sort of station: you’re in or you’re out, and if you’re in you don’t have privacy again. You can’t just stumble through life, not with everyone watching and judging. She had no question that she could fraternize with the wealthy and famous, but royalty? That was another level altogether. Was that something she wanted? And Hell: how did that factor in? Would devil paparazzi come chase her for sleeping with a demon prince? Would imps and monsters read about her in tabloids somewhere, judging her and envying her? Would she be expected to go to Hell with him, because a crown prince would have to go back to his kingdom at some point, wouldn’t he? What would devils do to her, in their envy and curiosity and everything else that came from being presented with someone who had landed a prince when they hadn’t. Their prince, not hers, which she was sure would be another sticking point. For all her day-dreams and fantasies, good sense had still reigned and royalty was not something she had ever seriously entertained; monsters and magic and devils had been even farther from her mind. This was a lot to take in, and spurring her thoughts on faster was the knowledge that she would have to do it quickly: this wasn’t something to play around with, and dallying would only get her tangled up with him in the eyes of others whether she wanted the attention or not. She pulled herself up and got dressed, leaving without saying much of anything. A half-formed hope that he would look normal again when she next saw him flitted through her mind as she walked out, but it was quickly lost to her other thoughts. Category:Rise of the Runelords